


Never wanted to, but I want with you

by nothingbutniall



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Viktor tells the truth, WTFock Season 2, babies in love, botanical garden date, some softness to survive these dark times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 04:48:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19124911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingbutniall/pseuds/nothingbutniall
Summary: Zoë and Senne make up at the botanical garden in Antwerp.Alternatively: the one in which Viktor's first text is true and nothing happened.





	Never wanted to, but I want with you

**Author's Note:**

> An alternate universe where Zoë and Senne can be happy.  
> I changed the date to fit the story - Viktor texts back on Saturday morning, rather than Friday.  
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Title comes from Clara Mae’s Us.)

_Sorry for the late reply. Forgot. It was just a nice party. Nothing weird happened._

Zoë feels the tension leave her body as soon as she reads the message. _Nothing happened._ She breathes out a sigh of relief.

Her Messenger conversation with Senne is filled with one-sided messages, all asking her ever more urgently to reply. She swallows. She knows he’s worried. Her mood swings have been unpredictable and if she were a better person, she would talk to Senne and explain things.

But she’s not a good person, at least not when it comes to relationships and trust, so she hadn’t told him anything. She feels guilty for it now. Despite his tough demeanour, he cares. He’s fiercely protective over the ones he loves and she’s not naïve enough to think that he loves her, but he cares. More than she deserves, probably.

She types and retypes her text, struggling to find the right words and settling for short and vague in the end.

_Hey. Sorry for the radio silence. Family stuff. Do you want to meet up?_

As soon as she’s sent it, the typing bubble appears, a message coming through seconds later.

_Definitely. Where?_

_Botanic garden? I could use some fresh air._

The tram ride to the city centre takes no time at all and before long, she’s standing across the street from the garden. She can see Senne waiting for her, leaning against the thigh-high wall. He hasn’t spotted her yet, scrolling through his phone.

She smiles and crosses the street, the sound of her feet on the pavement making him look up. He smiles, a little unsure, as if she can change her mind and disappear any second. She knows she can only blame herself for that.

“Hey,” she says softly. She wants to reach out and straighten out his hair, but she refrains.

“Hey,” he echoes, sliding his phone in his pocket.

Zoë reaches out for him and wraps her arms around his waist. His skin is warm where his shirt has ridden up and she can feel him shiver when her cold thumb brushes across.

After a moment of hesitation, his arms wrap around her shoulders. She closes her eyes and breathes him in, the familiar smell of laundry detergent and boy that is starting to fade from the blanket. She feels his heartbeat where her head is resting in his neck.

Lifting her head slightly, she presses a kiss to the side of his jaw. She might suck at communication, but she hopes it conveys what she cannot put into words. That’s she’s sorry for blocking him out, that she’s learning to trust him.

When she pulls back, their eyes lock and Senne pulls her in for a kiss, just a hint of despair in the way his tongue slips into her mouth. One of his hands drifts lower, grabbing onto her hip and keeping her close, while Zoë tangles her fingers in his hair.

They’re kissing like they haven’t seen each other in months, breaths hard and ragged and lips bruising. Questions hang unspoken between them.

When they part to catch their breath for a second, Zoë becomes aware of the world around them again. An older couple walks past, and she hears them grumble about their blatant public display of affection.

She feels Senne’s laugh more than she hears it and she buries her face in his chest to stifle her own giggle.

“Oops,” he mumbles, eyes sparkling.

“Let’s go look at some plants.” She tugs him along, through the gate and into the garden.

It’s not big, nearly everything in sight from where they’re standing, but the pathway sways from tree to tree, all kinds of flowers lining the borders. There is a small pond midway and some art scattered throughout the garden.

A few people are walking around or reading a book on one of the many benches, but overall, it’s surprisingly empty for a Saturday morning.

The gravel crunches under their feet as they walk. Large ferns hang over the sides of the path and a variety of herbs grow a bit further down the path.

Zoë smells the white roses, a sweet perfume filling her nose.

“Smell this.” She holds the flower for Senne, laughing when a bumblebee startles him right as he bends down.

“This your thing, huh?” He drapes an arm loosely around her shoulder.

She reaches out to touch the leaves of a rhododendron and nods. She’s a child of nature, she can’t help it. Living in cities for most of her life has made her yearn for the simplicity and the silence that nature offers.

Out here, Zoë lets her senses be taken over by the green. She watches the water ripple from the wind, listens to the birds singing high up in the trees, strokes the delicate petals of a peony, smells the lemon balm on her fingertips, and tastes a wild strawberry she finds hidden underneath some lavender.

She’s so engrossed in exploring the garden, she barely notices Senne has more eyes for her than for the plants. He lets her wander, smiling fondly as she touches everything on her way, always keeping his arm around her or her hand in his.

When they reach the secluded space in the back, he pushes her up against the wall, kissing her deeply once more.

It’s then that Zoë decides she will tell him. Not now, not here. But she will tell him.

He kisses down her neck, over her pulse point and she arches into the feeling. She knows he’s holding back, can feel it where their bodies are pressed together.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against her skin, seeking out her lips. “You drive me crazy.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” she breathes.

“I know you said no sex before marriage,” he whispers, “so how about we just get married right now? I know a chapel nearby.” His eyes sparkle.

Her lips curl up, kiss turning messy because of their smiles. She leans her forehead against his, noses brushing.

Yeah, she’d tell him. She no longer wants to hide.

**Author's Note:**

> The garden described in this fic is real and is located in the centre of Antwerp. It’s called Botaniek (or botanic garden) and is a lovely place to escape the city for a minute. I could totally see Zoë loving it there.
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! You can also find me on Twitter (@nothingbutniall).


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